What's in a name?
by KittyGetAwayFromTheBlanket
Summary: Maura reflects over her life and relationship with Jane. (I dont do summaries...lol)


Name: KittyGetAwayFromTheBlanket**  
**Title: What's in a name?**  
**Disclaimer: I Don't own them.. I own nothing, just my own muse at play.**  
**Fandom: Rizzoli & Isles**  
**Pairing: Jane R/Maura I**  
**Rating:**  
**Summary:

_A/N:As always. no beta any and all mistakes are mine, mine, mine.. No real purpose to this story.. I just dont wanna make a multi chapter one cause im notorious for not finishing.. _

_ Anything relating to Science.. Life.. History.. Anatomy/Bodies are probably (very-truly) highly inaccurate, as I sucked in Science, Biology.. and math.. my best subject was doodling.. but it was a class I took in ALL my classes, unknown to any teachers and no credits.. but in MY world my sketches were awesome and made the math hour tolerable, :) and I also liked Gym.. except for Volleyball .. it's like dodgeball with a net, when you have little to no reflexes or jumping skills. FYI.._

Maura Isles, The Chief Medical Examiner of the Common Wealth of Massachusetts exhaled through her nose, a way to ease the tension from a building headache purging behind now closed eyelids. It was all just too much for one evening - the case, the crime scene; everything.  
DNA that was found once as an Inclusion and conclusive, later became tainted from a reckless officer who had done so inadvertently by mishandling it, lending the firm evidence to drop to exclusion and finally inadmissible.

Skilled hands left their respective place among the stiff corpse laid vertical on the steel table, Or "dead body" table as a highly-regarded Detective once remarked it as.

Hazel eyes peered under long-eyelashes, as they took in the vision beneath her. The body lying on the table wasn't an old man who went peacefully in their sleep, nor was it a grandmother who lived out her days to come to terms with the end of her life - but a (suspected; inconclusive) homicide of a 11 year old boy. He hadn't even the opportunity to really _like_ girls, to have his first girlfriend - his first kiss, he lost the chance when someone decided to end it. His frail body was found dumped on Interstate 695, near a sewer which was being excavated to make way for a new cross-bridge.

After initial examination Maura had noted there was significant damage to the larynx, and trachea - giving a hypothesis to pre-mortem strangulation - but that alone did not cause the death. There was a carcinogen substance lining the damaged throat, and also found in the contents of the stomach. But again - that was the _initial_ and final phase producing death - it was the lines marring across the chest, each deeper than the next until one severed a growing jugular (which was later found after close examination of the strangulated etches).

It was all just - too much, and to know that the only DNA established was mishandled - made her a mixture of angry about the situation - sad, to the boy who still has no name, and tired ... because she has been working non-stop since the body rolled in, 7pm that night.

Tentatively the Blonde peeled the Blue latex gloves off her hand, slowly trying to avoid the perpetual "snapping" sound for such a late night, _or early morning, _she mused - as the clock tiptoed into the hour of 4am. She blinked heavily, trying to rid the residual feeling of sand as fatigue set in.

Taking one last glance at the John-Doe, she pursued her lips outward in a frown and headed to her office where her chair was inviting her to sit - to stay, to salvage whatever energy remained. Manoeuvring around her desk she sat down a little more ungracefully than she would have, and immediately her body sighed with relief, her joints eased the tension and blood flow mitigated to all wanton extremities.

Blonde hair which was partially clipped back by the bangs, curtained around her face as she lowered her head, using her right hand to massage the away _cervicalgia _or - neck pain, she was currently experiencing. She was applying pressure to different areas trying to find the binding tissue when added pressure jolted her out of her concentration. Her hand paused, but she continued to feel fingers ease the knots surrounding her cervical vertebrae.

A smoky voice eased her worry instantly, the person owning the ministration of fingers must have sensed the change in posture.

"Hey,... Just relax, " It echoed behind her, "It's been a long day, Maur, or night.. and you've been working since Frost and I left at 8," the voice then registered closer to her right-side. "Ma says she stopped by after escaping Stanley's watchful eye to bring you a Cannoli," the voice paused, as did the fingers.

Missing the tension her head was edging to look over her shoulder when a small pressure across her cheek stopped her, and lightly forced her head to remain neutral. "Jane,.. I-"

"-which, I see remains untouched," Jane noted aloud, continuing with her exploration of skin and release. _At least it's not in the Dead Peoples Fridge, _Jane thought with a small smile, before her eyes fell on the table of the body next to the uneaten meal. "Maur, we'll get his name," her hands paused again, this time allowing the movement as dark Brown eyes met with dimmed Hazel ones.

"I know Jane,... it's just, he's alone, you know?" she sighed again, her eyes downcast and now her body expecting the comforted touches - not even noticing they remained mapping their rightful routes across her skin. Not debating or caring how right it was, or how wrong it was to justify it as such - just knowing it was right in that moment.

"Yeah - I know." Jane settled, knowing for Maura a kid is always a hard case to cope with, but a John Doe - was even harder. Jane assumed possibly as Maura had been adopted, to find no peace or solace with any family was a touchy subject, whereas most people taken by homicide had a grieving family to fill them in on details, memories - clues - but this boy, had no voice other than Jane and her partner Frost who were searching for him, and Maura herself searching every inch for a sign.

"It feels lovely.. by the way" the Blonde admitted, feeling slightly guilty for the mild pleasure and happiness a simple gesture could instill in her. Maura didn't even have to turn around to know Jane was most likely grinning slightly, as she relished in pleasing Maura in _almost_ every way she wanted.

"Yeah? well maybe after we crack this case you can return the favour, " long fingers trailed down the base of Maura's hairline, and curled under petite ears, dragging then to stiffened shoulders, the texture of Black Scrubs being smoothed down as she dug slightly into tense Front and Anterior Deltoids.

Groaning lightly as Jane released a knot in between her Trapezius, Maura bit her lip to avoid letting an improper moan of satisfaction, and settled on an appreciative hum. Her eyes again closed, she did what she did best to fill in any silence, and avoid awkward interruptions,

"Mm, yes, well - Studies have shown, that massaging actually inhibits not only healing, but dulls muscle pain and inflammation, without the use of anti-inflammatory medications, such as the over-used family of NSAID's. "

Fingers paused, as Maura re-collected her thoughts, and she assumed Jane was as always intently listening, while showcasing bravado and indifference with an exaggerated eye roll. "So with massage, while the practice may be seen as a luxury - it actually stimulates the body's inflammatory signals to repair muscle tissue and regenerate mitochondria, much better than damaging the lining of your stomach with high doses of Naproxen." She finished, unable to nod to herself in agreement, as her head lulled forward slightly with pressure from behind.

"Is that so?" The Detective chuckled, finding just a little too much pleasure in "regenerating muscle tissue".

"Absolutely." Maura confirmed, and sadly pushed her chair backwards, Jane stepping backward and sadly her hands left their place of solace. Less tired and shaky legs fully extended, and a petite body turned to look at her best friend, Jane - who in all honestly probably looked as tired as she felt, but regardless of Periorbital Dark Circles under her eyes, and a rogue tint on puffy eye-lids, her friend Jane still looked stunning. Always.

"I think it's time for me to take you home, so you can feed your Turtl-"

"Tortoise," a voice interrupted quickly.

"le, " the Brunette added and smirked, seeing the pinch of her friends eyebrows in faux exasperation. "Let's just take my car, " she gestured downward indicating the parking garage, "we gotta be back tomorrow anyway, so might as well just save a trip and I'll crash at your place."

Maura wasn't going to dispute the rational of sharing a car, a place - and her bed. It was an unspoken agreement between the two - where two friends, best friends, shared their lives - intertwined together like fate, the moirai took them through 2/3 of their life, and decided rightfully so that they were to lead, twist and bind into one another, never disputing it, just following their paths.

"Only if you drive, while I haven't consumed any alcohol - I feel my level of awareness may border on a 0.8 sense of intoxication."

Jane's eyes softened, a sense of entitlement and protection washed over her, as Maura stepped around her desk, and the Detectives hand found home to the small of her back, leading them both to the garage below, and a bed that beckoned the two into slumber.

Walking through to the elevator, Maura reaching the elevator first- the hand on her lower back remaining placid, they both stood their mirroring a contemplative silence.

Jane chanced a look at her best friend, who's eyes were trained on the numbers indicating how many floors left until the doors opened. Maura looked tired - extremely tired, but her jaw as set firmly, as she was obviously lost in thought - most likely mulling over the body they've left behind to wait another day for answers.  
Jane reached away from Maura's back to find her hand, and gave it a tentative squeeze, which was returned lightly. Hazel eyes met dark Brown ones and both women smiled, they didn't need to communicate every second of the day - while they could banter with the best, laugh in dire situations - sometimes they just revelled in one another's company.

A _ding_ jarred both women from their silent exchange, and steel doors slid open.

Both stepped in - Maura first of course, as Jane was always a gentlemen, or once remarked as, _ the guy. _

"Jane," Maura spoke as the doors sealed shut.

Looking over Jane answered, "What is it Maur?"

"Do you think,..If something were to ever happen, I mean - years from now" she added, halting Jane from interrupting, "and my parents were long gone, and if I weren't married - do you think, "the Blonde paused, sighing heavily, feeling a bit silly bringing this up. "Do you think I would just be another Jane-Doe? on that table - I mean, obviously I would have my name and credentials - but while legally I am an Isles, biologically I-"

"Hey, hey.." Jane soothed, her whiskey voice tamed from the heartbreaking waves of emotion eliminating off her best friend. Scarred hands found soft ones, cradling them like eggs - cushioning them from internal blows and worry. "No matter what happens - when, MUCH much later in life - like when Frankie is goin' bald, and his "muscle" weight is pure fat-"

Maura's lip curled slightly, her nose emitting a small sniffle after a mixture of a laugh and hiccup.

"it won't matter what you do, who you marry - you're like," she paused, her heart clenching and stomach churning, "family to us Maur - to Ma, to Frankie- Tommy," _Especially platonic to Tommy. "_-to me. You're not just.." one hand left Maura's as it curtsied around in a circle as she spoke, "an Isles, you're a Rizzoli too."

Swallowing Maura felt slightly silly for bringing this up - she knew how much she meant to the Rizzoli's, and that they took her in as one of their own, but perhaps out of a vanity if placement after seeing the unknown boy, she needed confirmation, just - to know if this was all real, and true.

Jane returned to cradling her friends hands, and they kept eye contact as the elevator continued to climb it's floors.

"Well,.." Maura broke the silence again, her voice catching a whiskey tone like that of her friends as emotion and fatigue reigned in. "No one will ever replace you guys, no boyfriend, fiancée, or.. or husband, " _or wife - not you, no one could replace you Jane. _

"Yeah?" Jane smiled, "We are pretty contagious," she chuckled.

Maura returned the smile, and shook her shoulders slightly - given that her hands were still in Jane's, "Well, colour me infected then!"

Jane withdrew her hands, as the _ding_ of their floor arrival echoed in the steel vicinity. Maura stepped forward first, and again Jane's hand reached for Maura - always needing reassurance that she was there, for her - no matter what.

It wasn't an eventful walk to the garage - no heists, no abductions, no explosions - and no mob bosses sent to retrieve either of them. The ride was silent, a few exchanged glances and smiles were met. Their walk to the house was in step with one another, and their nightly routine fell in line with all others - each to their own respective ones. What _was_ different was when both women - who already shed their daily attire slid into cool sheets, facing one another.

The light from the moon camping out for a few more hours bathed both figures in a soft glow, their skin - complexions, facial features etched in mild shadows. Both sets of eyes were still open, and trained onto one another.

"Maura?" Jane questioned, even though she could see Maura was still awake.

"Yes, Jane?" she sighed, her lips upturned.

"If there were a time you .." she paused, swallowing down the metaphorical bile of even the thought of losing her friend. "-Go, is there, .. do you, have any regrets?"

Jane was met with silence, and she assumed her friend had fallen asleep. Waiting for another minute she closed her own eyes - which then re-opened when a response arrived.

"Yes." simply stated.

Jane peeked over, through a few unruly dark curls edging their way into her vision of Maura whom was fading as her pupils dilation receded.

"What would it be?" simple question.

Again Jane was met with silence, but this time she kept her eyes trained on her best friend. They continued to remain on her as... it appeared she was coming closer and closer, and then - Jane felt a hand trail down her forearm and dip to her abdomen, and rest atop her hip bone. Holding her breath, she felt the heat of her friends body meld with her own, and the coolness of the sheets transformed into a warming sensation of comfort and completeness.

"Letting you know .." a breath whispered across her lips, as if to spell each syllable on her own. "How much I appreciate being a Rizzoli, to have you.. as one, " a strangled almost- sob emanated from beside her, and Jane's hands quickly - while accessible reached forward the mirror the cradling position. "to identify with me, to love me for who I am.. regardless.. " she sighed, "regardless of who I am, where I came from - I- love you Jane I-"

Soft lips silenced her confession. Maura may question _many _things, may remain absolute in not second guessing, or surmising - but she didn't question the kiss, or how wonderful it felt, how her toes curled and her blood rushed from her head straight to her beating heart. She just didn't question what was right.

The kiss was everything she had wanted, and answered her continuous nagging insecurities indefinitely.

She wasn't _just_ Maura Dorothea Isles, Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, she was Maura Isles - loved, (and later that night) lover of Jane Clementine Rizzoli, she had a place in the world, in someone's heart - and would fight for anyone else who didn't have that opportunity. Tomorrow she would do everything in her power to find John-Doe's family, because _everyone_ deserved to have family, to have been loved, and _be loved, _and that's ultimately why she did her job so thoroughly, so accurately - because nobody's life should remain a hypothesis - cold case or question, everyday she spoke for the dead and everyday fought for concrete answers.

... The very next day that answer came in a name, a beautiful, wonderful - name.

_Marcus Melarose. _

The End


End file.
